I went back to Rachel, who was sitting very patiently for me, figuring out the tip, and began to tell her the story of the baseball. We had other agendas so I was brief. I took my placemat and flipped it over and asked Rachel for a pen to jot some notes down. “Where is your trusty notepad?” she asked, knowing that she had it in her pocketbook. “Just a few notes, that’s all I need to get started.” So, I wrote down Ernie Branson, Riverwalk, 1920s, Virginia Beach home run, landscaping – then took a photo of the placemat with my phone as a convenient backup. I was just getting ready to scoop out of the bench and leave when Monica came back to the table. Rachel handed her the bill with a beautiful smile and asked “you started to say something before and left. You left us with ‘he got very.'” I had a giant grin on my face and Monica put down her coffee pot and sat next to me.

“He got very excited because the Riverwalk Home Run Journey might actually have a happy ending. To find that home run hitter, well it was a lifetime goal of my Uncle Ernie. He would read the newspaper every damn day, just hoping that someone would have news on the homer, someone caught the game, something to solve the mystery. Then, one day it happened.” Monica stood up and looked around one more time before continuing. “A newspaper article told the tale of a barnstorming professional baseball player named Dickey Granger who deposited mammoth 500 foot home runs into lakes, ponds, rivers, creeks, woods all over the South in the 1910s and 1920s. My uncle thought, ‘this has to be a baseball hit by Dickey Granger.’ He called the newspaper and told them about the baseball he had kept for 60 years. They invited him down to the paper for the story.”

I was familiar with the Virginia Beach Breeze, having worked in the late 1990s there as a freelance sports writer. It was a reputable local paper with a loyal following in Hampton Roads and I was eager to see where the journey got cut off, seeing that the period and story seemed to match the baseball in the hands of one Ernie Branson. “He got to the newspaper office and met with the sports editor, Sparky Thomas, who proofed and vetted the story about Dickey Granger. My uncle presented Sparky the ball, which had been kept on a mantle in good, presentable condition, and asked if Dickey could have hit this baseball. Sparky took the baseball, turned it over to see the logos and designs on the ball, and handed it back to my uncle. He said, ‘there is no way, no way in hell this ball was hit by Dickey Granger.” Monica paused for a second, feeling the pain her uncle must have felt, feeling the disappointment in the curt response to an emotional question.

“What was the reason,” asked Rachel, “why the quick pulling of the plug?” Monica began again, “Sparky didn’t give any reason, he just kept saying it wasn’t hit by Dickey Granger, no way, no how, good day sir.” My uncle insisted on an answer, he pointed to the article on the bench in Sparky’s office, he showed him the ball, he told him about the creek and the fisherman. Sparky told my uncle to take his ball and leave or he would call security. My uncle, reluctantly, grabbed the Riverwalk baseball, put it back in its case, and head down walked out of the newspaper office.” “What a bummer,” I said, “and Sparky had no info, not even a suggestion?” “Nope, and my uncle tried other staffers at the Breeze and was told the same thing, buzz off.”

“So, he took it home, put it back on the mantle, and there is sat until just before his death. He would come into the diner for breakfast most days. He didn’t cook much, so he would fill up here with a big meal that kept him upright for the day. He gave us the ball about a month before he died and there it sits,” Monica pointed to the ball. “Monica,” I asked very, very gently “would it be okay if I took a crack at the Riverwalk Home Run Journey? I know a lot of baseball historians that may be able to find you and your family some answers. I could leave something in collateral.” Monica thought about it for a second. “Okay, you seem like a trustworthy person, I’ll loan it to you while you are in town. Before you head back to Rhode Island, return it here if you haven’t find its home. Deal?”

“Deal.” I said and with that Rachel and I scooted out of the diner benches, I grabbed the baseball and case, and made a phone call to Ernest Branson Landscaping to introduce myself.